All Chapters of Damien's Willing Captive : Chapter 91 - Chapter 100

Damien’s POV Isabella. She was still lying on the floor. The exact same spot. The exact same position. Had she heard me coming and decided to stage this little scene just to catch my attention? She’s a whore…performance is their currency. And yet… my gut twisted, a sharp knot I couldn’t quite ignore. “Isabella,” I barked, stepping closer, and kicked her lightly. No response. My throat tightened. I crouched, reaching out… “Isabella?” My voice cracked this time. No movement. No sound. Just silence. My fingers barely touched her skin before I yanked them back like I’d been burned. Not cold. The opposite. Her body was molten. Scalding. Her skin hot enough to make my palm sting. “Fuck,” I whispered, panic slicing through me. She began trembling violently, her lips moving soundlessly like she was lost in some fever dream. I pressed my hand to her forehead. Lava. Shit. Shit. Grabbing my phone, I dialed the doctor with fingers that shook harder than her

Damien’s POV Her body jerked faintly against me, a shiver running through her frame like she’d just been plunged into ice water. I froze. What the fuck? I’d just touched her hours ago and she’d been burning up like a furnace, hot enough to scald my hand. Now? Now she was trembling, her skin pale and clammy, her teeth knocking like bones. I shoved the tray off the bed before it spilled everywhere and eased her down flat, tugging the duvet tight over her body. Not enough. I grabbed another blanket from the foot of the bed and piled it on top, tucking her in like she was a child. Then I hit the doctor’s number. He picked up on the first ring. “She’s shivering. She’s cold now.” My voice came out sharper than intended. “Mr. Voss,” he said evenly, “it’s called rigors. Her body’s fighting the fever. It’s common. Keep her warm and make sure she’s hydrated. No panic. This is her system regulating itself.” “No panic?” I snapped. “She was on fire two hours ago, and now she’s on

Jace’s POV Her words hung in the air like a noose tightening around my throat. “You know who,” Agnes whispered again, her face visibly shaken, her eyes too wide, her knuckles white where she gripped the edge of the chair. Her freckles stood stark against her olive skin, and for a second, she looked like she might throw up. I frowned, heat crawling up the back of my neck. “Who?” My voice came out harsher than intended, edged with a panic I refused to show. Her lips trembled. “The serial killer.” The words detonated inside the room. Officers paused mid-step, mid-paperwork. Phones that were ringing went unanswered. Even the hum of the overhead lights seemed louder, invasive, mocking. Agnes leaned forward, her whole body quivering. “Jace, I heard it. From Isabella’s landlady. She said there’ve been…bodies. Girls. Found dumped in alleyways, parks, near the river. And no one’s saying anything publicly, but…” Her throat closed up as she tried to continue, horror clouding her fa

Jace’s POV The ride into the underbelly of the city was like a descent into a nightmare you couldn’t wake up from. The neon lights of the downtown strip blurred out behind us, fading into shadows as the car rolled deeper into the outskirts where the streets were fractured, the lamps broken, and the gutters ran thick with things I didn’t want to name. Graffiti clung to every wall…snakes coiled around skulls, crowns dripping with red, spray-painted slogans like territorial blood marks. The closer we got, the more the air shifted…thicker, fouler, a cocktail of smoke, cheap liquor, and gunpowder. Viper’s Alley. Even the name carried a hiss of warning. I had no business being here. Not the type of place for people like me. Hell, not the type of place for anyone who wanted to see the morning sun. But Isabella’s name burned at the back of my throat like a prayer and a curse at the same time. That was enough. Enough to push me forward, even as my pulse hammered so loud it drowned

Jace’s POV I followed him deeper into the alley, past the clusters of men who watched us with hungry eyes. The walls seemed to close in as we moved, the graffiti becoming more elaborate, more violent. Skulls gave way to demons, demons to scenes I didn't want to interpret. "When did you last see her?" Kyle asked without looking back. "A few weeks ago, at her workplace. She was meant to stay with me at my mansion for a while, but I never saw her. They said she was seen entering the guest room…but never came out. It’s as if she... just vanished." "Did you call the cops?" The question was loaded. We both knew there's no way I wouldn't have called the police. "I won't be here if they did their job," I admitted. "Smart boy." He stopped abruptly, turning to face me. We were in a narrow section of the alley now, the walls close enough to touch on both sides. "But not smart enough to stay out of my territory." "I had to—" "You had to nothing." His voice dropped to a whisper